I love being a writer. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed about crafting my stories.

And now I’m living that dream.

It feels good.

But it’s not a bed of roses.

A lot of the time, I’m asked how I spend my day after writing. I think many believe writers only work a few hours a day, if that, and then play. I wish!

While not all my time is solely dedicated to hammering away on the laptop, the majority is. And I don’t always wake up in the mood. Even a dream job is still a job. I’m human. There are days I want to stay in bed, snuggle under the covers, and read or get lost in a movie. Or sleep.

But I force myself out of bed each day. To me, half the battle is to sit my butt down at my laptop. Once I accomplish that, I stay put until I can’t write anymore for the day. There are days I need to resort to what I call my inspiration porn.

You see, I love to travel. In order for me to travel, I need to make money. So, if my will is lagging, I crack into my photos and remember seeing a lion in Botswana for the first time. Actually, I heard the lion’s roar before laying eyes on him. What a sound. And what a sight.

The following morning.

Other memories include sitting on a beach in Jamaica.

Hiking a mountain in Malaysia.

Climbing to the top of Notre Dame to see the gargoyles and Paris views.

Attending a World Cup soccer match in Johannesburg, South Africa.

I was too busy watching to snap more photos.

After a few minutes of reinforcing the knowledge that my job as a writer is propelling another dream—traveling the world—I get to work.

HAVE YOU HEARD OF I HEART LESFIC?

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